Her wheel chair did not fit easily between the table and the kitchen island. I finished helping her get ready for the day. I had arrived earlier that day and was so excited to show her, The Mango, my car, my orange car. I couldn’t believe, me, the chick who hates attention and was a devoted introvert, now drives a very orange car.
(The paint is called Gomango.)
Her reaction was short. “It is certainly orange.”
It was too late…
My brand spankin’ new car, which had 8 miles on it when bought, that I had owned for all of a day, she would never ride in.
For months on end of driving back and forth, the 5 hours in total per week and sometimes more, I had owned a Jeep Cherokee. When she went from cane to wheel chair, that son of a bitchin’ thing fit, just right, in the back. We would go for breakfast and my gut and arms were full of bruises as wrestling that chair was not my forte.
The day I arrived with my new car, I drove the two and half hours down that same highway but this time I was in my happy car. I felt a peace and just a hint of ease deep inside, something that been buried in mess of hopelessness. I had been on auto pilot of duty, and pushing forward in numbness. Something you just do because you have to, no matter what.
I knew the end was close and I had spent months doing everything in my power to help her in every way possible.
The only time, I took time for me, was in between visits, I would arrive home and cry, actually bawl and just become a total mess of emotions. I would dump barrels of grief, confusion and utter pain, all over my husband and in a few short days head back down that highway.
When we made the decision to get the car it seemed totally out of the theme of life at that point. We just did it, and it was an unsaid and an on-hold happy embrace, reminding us of how strong we are.
When I arrived I parked my car and that is where it stayed. I could see it from the dining room window, the same one I fought furniture and that chair so she could see the mango that one time.
It would be 27 days before I would drive the mango back home.
#themango represents strength you don’t know you have or the power you have hidden. It embraces happiness even when you are struggling.
It reminds you that you can look fucking awesome in orange!
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